


there's blood in my mouth cause i've been biting my tongue all week

by MarsBar2019



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, M/M, Neighbors, Slow Burn, gratuitous nostalgia for rhode island, idk - Freeform, is this a coffeeshop au, needs its own archive warning, post college drift
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsBar2019/pseuds/MarsBar2019
Summary: Fjord finds himself in a new city, in the aftermath of a personal tempest that has him adrift in life, career, and love. To make matters worse, his new neighbor is helpful, friendly, and...kind of cute?
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	there's blood in my mouth cause i've been biting my tongue all week

“Whoa, careful there-“

The bassy rumble came from somewhere in front of Fjord that he couldn’t see over the stack of boxes in his arms. A pair of hands came from around them and lifted two of the boxes off the stack.

“You were about to trip on the stairs,” the voice explained. Fjord found himself looking up at an exceptionally tall, slender firbolg, with a chinstrap beard and long, bright pink hair that was parted deep to one side, shaved down on the other.

“Oh - uh, thank you,” Fjord mumbled. “You can just leave that on the steps, I can get it on the next trip.”

“I don’t mind.” He stepped aside and let Fjord lead the way to his new apartment, which he barely knew himself. Fjord was itching to end this interaction and awkwardly hurried up the stairs to his new front door. The man followed and smiled warmly while Fjord, palms sweating, fumbled with the keys.

“Oh, that’s nice. You’re moving in right next door.”

“Huh?” The man gestured with his head to the next door down the hall.

“That’s me, right there. I guess you’re my new neighbor.” Fjord nodded and cleared his throat as he stepped into the dimly lit apartment. He’d bought most of the furniture sight unseen from the previous tenants, just hoping it was in usable condition. He set his two boxes down just inside the front door.

“Where would you like these?”

“Um, just, with the other two is fine.” The man put them down next to Fjord’s first two boxes. “Uh, thanks, I appreciate the help. I’m Fjord.” He wiped his sweaty hand on his jeans and held it out awkwardly. _Who even shakes hands anymore? What?_ The stranger gave an amused smile and took Fjord’s hand, shaking it slowly.

“Caduceus Clay. Very nice to meet you. Is the rest of your stuff in the car?” Fjord smiled awkwardly.

“No, this is it, actually. I mean, I’ve got a backpack down there, but I’ll bring it up. Thanks for taking those.”

“Ah, happy to help.” Caduceus’s voice rumbled through Fjord’s chest like a purr, and he felt his anxiety start to rise. “I’m just next door so if you need anything, feel free to come on over. Very nice to meet you.”

“Thanks, you too.”

Caduceus, long and lanky, stepped back out into the hallway and Fjord stared after him for a second before remembering himself and shutting the door firmly. Finally alone, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked around his new apartment. It was fine, cheap and functional. Just what he needed, and no more than that. The kitchen was tiny and bare, just a small gas stove, a stained microwave and ancient refrigerator. Fortunately, the furniture seemed to be alright, the cushions on the couch were a bit threadbare and the bed creaked, but nothing unreasonable.

Fjord unpacked most of his meager belongings in about half an hour, leaving one box in the closet, and flopped down on the bed. _New city, new life. Nobody here knows you. You can be anything you want. No expectations._ No expectations until the rent came due. He had enough to last a little while, two months, three if he stretched it. He’d probably find work in that time. Fjord rubbed his tired eyes and pulled out his phone. He wanted some China Harbor - and then remembered he now lived 1,200 miles from China Harbor and that was probably outside their delivery radius. Just another thing to get used to.

An hour later, Fjord was walking back into his apartment carrying a carton of beef with peanuts - it didn’t smell as good as the one from China Harbor - and noticed a pale yellow Post-It tacked to his door.

_514-309-1803_

_-Caduceus, 3B_

Oh. That’s…thoughtful.

_What if he’s some weirdo?_

Fjord rolled his eyes at his own paranoia and took the Post-It, pressing it to the bare fridge when he got inside.

The next few days, Fjord didn’t leave his apartment much at all. He went back and forth between the couch and the bed, filling out job applications, watching TV and drinking beer until bed when he got sick of that. Microwaved food that he barely tasted, more boilerplate emails about why he’d be _thrilled_ to work at whatever place whose name he couldn’t remember, and crushing silence.

 _Some use that degree was_ , he thought sourly as he filled out yet another application for a waitstaff position. _Maybe I should text Sabien. Just to chat, check in._ When _that_ thought entered his head, Fjord knew it was time to get out of the house. He tossed his laptop aside and went to the bathroom, where he splashed water on his tired face and looked into the mirror.

“You’re gonna pick yourself up, you’re gonna get out of this house, and you’re gonna make. Some. Friends,” he growled at the man in the mirror. “This isn’t going to be a mistake. This wasn’t a mistake. It’s a fresh start. No wallowing.”

Fjord found a pair of clean burgundy shorts and a gray sweatshirt and yanked them on, running his fingers through his hair and lacing up his white sneakers. _Drive around, find a place to hole up and have a cup of coffee. Even if you’re just sitting on your computer looking for jobs, do it around other people._

Fjord scooped up his phone and keys along with his backpack, which had his laptop in it. He paused with his hand on the doorknob when he heard his phone chime in his pocket. Pulling it out, his heart dropped.

_Sabien_

_Text Message_

Fjord hesitated - _this is exactly what you were trying_ not _to do_ \- but opened it anyway.

_Hey, heard you took off last week and moved to Rhode Island? Sorry I didn’t get a chance to say bye. Maybe you’ll come back down when you get time. Good luck._

It wasn’t a question, or even a “hope to see you” or anything like that. Fjord closed his phone screen and shoved the phone back in his pocket as he shouldered out the door. _Don’t know what you expected._ When Fjord got in the car, he had no idea where he was going. That was…sort of the point. He just wanted to drive around and find a good spot. Plans hadn’t done him much good so far.

Even Fjord had to admit, his new home was a charming little city. In some parts the streets were cobblestoned, the water wasn’t far away no matter where you were. Each area seemed to have its own character and history, there were little shops and restaurants and bars and houses that ranged from three family homes and dense apartment buildings to beautiful brick mansions.

The first cafe Fjord saw, he parked. The Blooming Grove was a sweet, dark green colonial style house that appeared to have been converted into a shop. There were plants of all sizes and colors ascending from just behind the white wooden gate, up the stairs and to the front stoop, which was framed by white wooden walls that reminded Fjord of a confessional screen.

_You are definitely not cool enough to hang out here._

Fjord hefted his bag over his shoulder and went in anyway, and his senses were immediately assailed by the scent of strong black tea and delicate raspberries, the hiss of a milk frother and the clink of mugs and dishes.

“Oh hi!” A young woman from behind the counter beamed as soon as the little silver bell over the door tinkled to announce Fjord’s arrival. Feeling awkward, Fjord tried to put on a smooth face and sidle up to the counter.

“Hi there. Um, what’s good here?” _Yeah. Smooth._ She giggled.

“Uhhh, everything? I make all the pastries and so obviously all of _those_ are super good, today I made chocolate cake, and ricotta puffs, and raspberry cheesecake, and-“

“Oh, I was thinking more along the lines of coffee, actually,” Fjord interjected gently.

“Your loss, man,” the woman mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess, you want just like plain coffee, with no sugar or flavors or anything, just black coffee.”

“Yeah, I mean, that sounds right.” She huffed.

“ _Fine._ Staying here or to go?”

“I’ll stay here if it’s alright by you,” Fjord replied with a grin. “I don’t know if you allow plain coffee drinkers to sit in your establishment.” The blue tiefling smiled as she rang him up.

“Well, I guess just this _one_ time, it’s fine, but next time you’d better get one of my pastries or something.”

“Don’t bully the customers, Jester,” a low, strangely familiar voice called from the back.

“I’m not!” She turned back to Fjord. “That’ll be ready in like one second, just wait here.” The woman, Jester, moved to pour from a large kettle into a mug, when a man he recognized mainly by the hair ducked out into the kitchen area. Fjord’s heart jumped like he’d been caught out somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. Caduceus’s hair was piled up in a bun, the pink even brighter against his black T-shirt. Fjord spotted an earring he hadn’t seen before, a wooden spiral poking through Caduceus’s elongated ear.

“Oh, hey there!”

“Do you know this boring black coffee guy, Caduceus?” Jester asked sweetly as she put Fjord’s coffee on a saucer.

“ _Fjord_ is my new next door neighbor,” he replied. To Fjord, he smiled. “Nice to see you here.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I didn’t know you worked here,” Fjord mumbled, his face warm. _He probably thinks you’re some kind of weird stalker._

“Caduceus is the owner, actually,” Jester informed him brightly as she slid the coffee over to him. Great. So his new neighbor was nice, and helpful, and also basically his same age - if not a little younger - and owned a business. Was the universe just deliberately working over the last few months to put him in situations to make him feel terrible about himself? He retreated to a corner table where he could work on his job applications and hopefully be unnoticed.

 _Political organizer - PT_. Fjord opened the description and immediately closed it once he saw it was for the conservative mayoral candidate. Even someone desperate as him had standards.

 _Robotics department lab coordinator._ Obviously unqualified.

 _Squid boat - immediate opening._ Fjord paused at that one. He was almost certainly overeducated for this, but…he’d worked on fishing boats back home, before going to college. He’d actually enjoyed it quite a bit. The listing had a phone number, no email, and Fjord pulled his phone out and entered it. His thumb hovered over the call button. Fjord pushed his chair out and stood, hustling to the front counter.

“Hey, uh, Jester, right? Could you keep an eye on my stuff for just a second? I just got to step out and make a call.” Jester looked up from the dishes she was drying.

“Sure thing! But now you owe me trying _two_ of my pastries.” He couldn’t help but laugh at that, giddiness bubbling up in his chest at the idea of getting back out on the water.

“You got it.”

As soon as the door to the cafe shut behind him, Fjord mashed the call button. One ring…two…three…four… Fjord’s heart sank. Maybe it wasn’t a good number. Or they wouldn’t answer.

“‘Yello?” A no nonsense female voice with a heavy Rhode Island accent picked up the phone. Fjord felt his pulse hammering in his ears.

“Hello? Uh, hi, I’m calling about the job listing-“

“You have a name?” The woman sounded amused.

“Oh! Yeah, Fjord.”

“Just Fjord?”

“Just Fjord.” She paused.

“You sound like you’re from the South. Can’t imagine you got any experience squiddin’?”

“Well, no, but I used to work on the shrimp boats back in Savannah.” She made an approving grunt.

“So you’re used to hard work. And risin’ early.”

“Sure am, ma’am,” Fjord said. He was sure his grin even came through on the phone.

“Come out to the wharf and be ready to push off tomorrow at 4. Boat’s called Night Compass. If you’re a good worker and take to it quick, we’ll getcha signed on when we get back in.”

“Thank you, ma’am, I won’t be late and I won’t disappoint.”

“Trust not. See you tomorrow, Fjord.”

Fjord could feel the spring in his step when he walked back into the Blooming Grove. _Maybe this move is going to work out after all._ Fjord plopped into his chair and opened Instagram. He already felt more relaxed, and anticipation to get back out on the ocean bubbled under his skin. The job wasn’t a sure thing, he knew that, and he ought to be thinking about making career moves. “Squiddin’”, as the woman had put it, wouldn’t be a viable job forever. If it was anything like shrimp fishing, there were no benefits, the pay was mediocre at best, the work was backbreaking and the hours were terrible. He wasn’t even sure if squid fishing went on year round; back in Savannah, he was just a pair of hands, a temporary hire for six months of the year. He definitely ought to be filling out more applications. But…for now, maybe he could just have a break. Five minutes.

Fjord scrolled mindlessly through a parade of friends from college, drinking buddies from his hometown, a few old coworkers. He thumbed past artful photos of book passages, engagement photos _(ugh),_ snapshots of pets. A shock of red curly hair made him freeze.

_avantika.the.beautiful_

_Nothing like a nice relaxing bath at the end of the day…especially when you know you won’t be getting much sleep tonight..._ 😉

_#vacay #samoa #travel #wanderlust #movingon #ontothenextadventure_

The accompanying photo featured Avantika, luxurious, thick curls tumbling around her shoulders and into the bathwater, covering what couldn’t be shown on Instagram. She looked healthy, tanned darker than when he last saw her, and she was smiling, leaning back in the bath in the lap of a broad-shouldered, equally tanned hunk with long, shiny blonde hair. His brown eyes smoldered into the camera and Fjord scowled back, though he felt utterly pathetic knowing full well he was just looking at a photo. He closed the app and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

 _There goes that pleasant feeling,_ he grumbled silently. He looked up at the register, trying to decide if he should go for another cup. Caduceus was moving behind the counter, graceful for his height. He worked calmly, patiently, refilling bottles and wiping down surfaces. Fjord found his eyes drawn to the pink baby hair curls plastered to Caduceus’s temples with perspiration. He looked…nice.

Panic rose in Fjord’s chest and he took his gaze away from Caduceus immediately, shoving his nose back into his laptop and scrolling through job listings until the twisting in his stomach settled down.

Tomorrow morning. Back on the ocean. Where everything was predictable, even the chaos. Lord, he’d missed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm trying a new thing, modern AU! I'd love feedback on how this is feeling and what y'all think. I'm hoping to turn it into a longer piece with a good deal of plot (and later, likely a good deal of smut, hence the so far unearned E rating) if folks like it. If you want to see more, let me know!
> 
> Author photosynthesizes kudos and comments and releases new chapters in a beautiful, organic process of mutually beneficial cellular respiration.


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